| 18 | Lucid | Wandering |

66: Insomnia

Alright I’m cheating; I went to bed around, uhh, 12.30-1.03 am?? My memory fails me, as it usually does around this time of day (or should I say, night).

But I didn’t sleep very well. Tonight has been the only night I have tossed and turned so violently. I must’ve gone into and out of my favourite sleeping position many times before I gave up and messaged one of my closest friends (who obviously didn’t reply. If you see this, bro, and you know who you are, I’m sorry. For what, I don’t know, for not being me, I guess?).

I just, wow, my brain is exploding with balloons. I don’t know where they came from. I know I always talk about having balloons and releasing them and if you didn’t see before or you’ll forget when you come back and read this when you’re not a teenager anymore, 46: Balloons is the post you should probably see (my past self hopes to write many blog posts until my self turns twenty, and maybe it will be time to file away the teenagery, and begin a new blog based on young adult life, and then again, maybe not, but I’ll see, because I love this blog and I honestly can’t afford to just delete it now can I? Perhaps I’ll print out my blog, yes, that sounds like a fine idea. Happy because this is a balloon I won’t accidentally let go of in the night).

I guess I should go in-depth about it, my balloons, while I’m at it. I didn’t explain it very well in 46; perhaps I was still a naive teenager then. Who am I kidding? I’m pretty sure I wrote 46 in the same month as this post, 66.

Alright well I don’t know who originally had the balloons and gave them to me or why they gave them to me, but every time I get the balloons they’re already blown up. What’s in the balloons? Every individual one holds something different. I suppose it’s one train of thought for every balloon. They’re different colours, just like real balloons, I guess (I don’t actually know what colour they are). They’re just faint outlines of balloons and sometimes during the night, they’ll float away. Then I’ll forget what was in the balloons. Sometimes I’m careless enough to let go of the balloons while I’m awake. I hate doing that. Honestly. I love just expanding every thought and developing them into something else, like a blog post. Gosh what am I doing haha

All the thoughts except the intrusive ones get developed. Lately, I’ve been having a lot of intrusive thoughts. I suppose the balloons that hold those thoughts are black and uninviting, and seem to weigh themselves down so I can’t let go of them.

It’s terrible. I can’t even pop any of these balloons because they go beyond the physicality of real balloons; they’re so figurative it’s hard to believe. One day I suppose I’m not going to have balloons anymore; they’ll just be something else. Balloons for the teenage life, … then what for the adult life, and finally mid-

I don’t know, sorry, it must be the insomnia talking.

Alright, this is going to be directed at one person only from now on.

Ok I don’t know I have tears in my eyes. Today I watched The Notebook. Rachel McAdams had tears in her eyes early on in the movie, while she was, oh, um, breaking up with Ryan Gosling? I don’t know, I was just focusing on her eyes. Her eyes were glistening with tears, the light from her house bouncing around in her tears. It just looked like someone put more stars in her eyes that night. Do you think we look more beautiful when we’re crying, vulnerable, because that might be our true form? I don’t really know. No one has told me I look beautiful while I’m crying. Maybe it’s because half of the time I was crying my eyes and not doing beautiful crying, just legitimate bawling my eyes out and making myself a public nuisance.

It’s terrible. I kept thinking of you while watching the entire movie. I know, it was stupid. I wanted to tell you about it, I sort of wanted to watch it with you (half to how see how you’d react to the actual movie, half to…test out something). I just, it’s frustrating. I’m trying to put it in words and not organise it within my little balloon for you.

I keep listening to the song that’s meant for 59: Lazy Day on loop. I don’t really think of that scene I wrote for 59. Now it’s always just my envisaging the both of us together, even though I hate it. We’re just friends. Oh what am I saying, I don’t know. I just envisage bad things happening for us. I don’t want to break your heart. I already told you I’m incapable of loving. There are adults in my life who will tell me that I’m too young to know what real love is like, and to be honest, I don’t want to. You’ve seen the movies, you’ve definitely seen Game of Thrones. It ruins people.

“We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.” – George R.R. Martin [added Tuesday 1 December 2015]

I just, gosh, I don’t know, that’s not the kind of life I’d like to lead. Of course, though, I can’t just spend the rest of my life studying and not getting into anything. I think I’

4.20 am!!

Sorry

I think I’ll have to do something with my life. Like, fall in love and have children, because I do want to have little tiny tots which will keep me up all night and demand my 24/7 love and attention and to be able to tutor them in my favourite languages and subjects and love them and give them more love and care than I ever could to my lovely blog here. But for that to happen, first I need a boyfriend. I don’t know do I have to fall in love with him too or can it just be mutual attraction?

Tears in my eyes. Do you think there are stars tonight? Do you think the sky has put them in my eyes because there are unwelcome tears in my eyes now?